Sometimes when the emotions of living in this world become more than I can process, when my heart is too full of joy or sorrow I go to my happy place.
When I yearn for comfort I lay down with my Bible held tightly next to my heart and I close my eyes. I imagine that living Word of my Father streaming right into my heart, even though the book is closed and I haven't read a word. I envision the tiny silken threads of His voice weaving and knitting their way into my heart, mending the torn places, enforcing the weak and worn spots. I feel His light searching out the dark lonely places, warming me.
Other times, I imagine the throne room of Heaven. It is always busy and loud with voices worshipping and angels coming and going on assignment. There are people milling around waiting for their turn with my Father. But I don't wait. I walk through the door, straight throught the activity happening all around me, all around Him. I march up the steps to His throne and I crawl into my Father's lap. I wrap my arms around His neck and lay my head on His heart. And do you know what? He never scolds. He always has time to hold me. He places a kiss on my temple, strokes my hair and I am safe.
“I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world.” Mother Theresa
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